Beast
by Abstract Reality
Summary: "My inner beasts have awakened in response to you..." I speak as I envision his battered, broken form. "They beg for release..." Everyone has their inner beasts. Ghirahim seeks to draw out the beast within Link by way of his own... Ghirahim POV, One-shot.


_**Author's Note:**__ Greetings to all who traverse the endless webs of digital space! My name is Abstract Reality, and I will be your host on this small detour. _Now this story isn't exactly the most original idea (the first boss scene from the game, and others have written about the same scene), but I think that it is a good way to start. I can get a feel for the characters and how I wish to write them without having to do something so massive. Also, this version of the story has been modified from its original version to better fit my writing goals. So I hope you enjoy your visit to my story, _Beast. _

**Disclaimers:** I don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise, though I love it so. Also, this is not intended as slash. But Ghirahim is a very dark, sensual character so that does impact the way he perceives his violent tendencies. It is a kind of carnal experience for him. So please proceed with that in mind.

_Beast_

Her Majesty's presence is strong; it permeates the ancient walls of this forsaken temple. But no matter the location, the goddess will fall within my grasp, and in turn my master's. I will not allow for my plans to be spoiled once more. If it weren't for that servant of the goddess, whatever her name (for it lacks importance), the world would already be spiraling to its final moments.

My steps are light on the dusty floor of Skyview, my feet leaving vague marks on its surface. As I move through the structure with ease, I breathe in the thick air. The scent of misted leaves as well as dark, dank spaces fill my lungs. Light will not enter here; it is afraid to do so.

Greedy vines crawl over every available surface, violating the cracks in the walls without discretion. It is a tortured landscape. Humans no longer control this secluded world. Instead, insignificant mortals are forced to their knees in such a wild place. The cycle of time has ceased, locked in perpetual silence and eternity.

But while in reticence this place has remained for hundreds of years, a beast sleeps within. Its heartbeat echoes through every crevice. This beast leaves a stranger wandering in uneasiness. This creature is fear. However, the suffocating chaos of which I am fond is absent within these walls. Still, the uneasiness is tolerable.

Every place, every individual has a beast that stalks their inner darkness. But just as every place and person is different, their beasts are called by different names. Jealousy, pride, lust...all different titles of our inner selves. For myself, I possess a variety of beasts. My favorites are blood-lust and domination; a pair that work together very well. Their hunger is insatiable. It is fortunate I suppose that no single individual has experienced both their appetites at once, though unlucky for myself.

I continue walking through the dew filled corridors and rooms, the strength of the girl's aura growing with every movement like a weed. Excitement courses through my veins, a drug that fills me with an endless stream of energy; not that I am in need of extra. It cannot detract from my goal, only enhance my enthusiasm.

I serve my master without hesitation. I, Ghirahim, Demon Lord to the great Demon King will fulfill his wishes. With the blood of every last living, creeping creature, even down to the last child, I shall paint the world with their sacrifice. Their life source shall act as an aid to create a world of which a goddess-child does not rule, but a King.

The beast of the temple groans, the shivering of leaves as quiet as a whisper. My senses tune in to the most inconsequential detail; the squirming of spiders' legs, the trembling water, the growing vines...

Another presence enters upon my solitude.

I stop. I want to analyze this new essence.

It is not unlike the feeling I endure with the goddess: innocence, an unadulterated freedom of spirit. However, this individual is unique. A determination unlike any I have felt penetrates my mind. I also find an unyielding will that intrigues me greatly.

This fool could be none other but the goddess's 'chosen hero'.

The sky-child.

I vaguely remember this youth. Perhaps it was when I riled the winds of the sky to pull her highness from her high home. I had no idea then that he, this boy, would become the chosen hero of destiny. It is strange how fate weaves individuals together in a web of intermingling futures.

"Hmm..." I utter to myself, running my long fingers through my smooth, pale locks. Very interesting. I ponder what beast he holds within himself.

The child was coming fast, his aura becoming difficult to distinguish from that of the girl. He arouses a new brand of excitement within me. I feel a pressing, _urging_ need to indulge my beasts. They require satisfaction. But once they are released, I find that I am unable to restrain them. They continue until they are fed, 'til I am fed. But the needs of my master far outweigh that of my own. But perhaps there is room for both...if the opportunity arises.

"Do not keep me waiting, Sky-child...I am impatient."

With swiftness, I make my way to the goddess, her essence diminishing. My window of opportunity this time around will only be open for so long. It takes only moments to find the heart of Skyview, its center. She is near.

I pass through the threshold.

The space is wide and circular, the walls and floor embellished with designs of flora and fauna. A layer of age clings to the depicted leaves and petals like a thin coat of paint. I can sense an ancient power residing within this location; a heart indeed. The rich scent of moist soil is exchanged with rejuvenating freshness of open air. But this clean smell could not dispel the darkness which envelops the outer reaches of the room. While hope may exist, it cannot escape the clutches of fear forever; the clutches of the beast.

The focal point of this sacred place is a sealed door. A faint glow is emitting from its golden front, the out-stretched wings of the symbol of the sky unmistakable. I approach it, placing my hand upon the cool surface. My heart races. I summon my darkened blade from an assemblage of diamonds. My fingers encircle the hilt with force. This blockade will not remain closed to me…

The loud creaking of the door behind alerts me to the entrance of the sky-child, though his essence had been steady ever since he arrived. His speed, while unequal to my own in finding this sacred location surprises me. Such diligence. Was this his beast?

His feet tap lightly on the stone. They are steady and earnest. The space is practically pulsing with power. It seems that fate is treating me to my..._needs_.

I release a deep sigh, my back towards the human. No doubt it is a pleasant view from his angle. His breathing is labored. Fear works to infect his thoughts. He is becoming more exhilarating by the moment. So silly of me to disregard my interest. Her Majesty will have to wait. I want to _break_ this 'hero'.

"Look who it is..." I speak, sarcasm dripping from my words. I turn to face the foolish child.

He keeps his distance, a wise choice. His form is blanketed in the shadows, though his silhouette is obviously that of a youth.

"I am surprised that the tornado I stirred up didn't toss and tear you apart. And yet...here you are."

He steps out of the inky black, his reserve a stern facade; a mask. I cannot help but observe every detail of his personage. I feel desire come over me, not only of bloodshed and domination, but of lust as well.

His frame is slim, the attire of his people showcasing a slender waist and strong, sloping shoulders. His height is nothing astounding, around the average for his kind. It would make his submission easier. His face is smooth, his skin supple. His lips are parted, breathing heavily due to pursuit. His eyes, blue, are brimming with intensity. They are pure. His blonde hair cascades over his brow, his vigorous exercise causing it to be disheveled. He is hardly a man.

Just a boy.

I continue.

"Not that your life or death has any real consequence."

He is silent. His defiance is enthralling. But my beasts will not allow such insolence for long.

"You must not be one for conversation." His jaw tightens. He makes no move to look away, though I can sense his anxiety. A smirk spreads across my mouth.

"Where is Zelda?" He inquires curtly. His voice is deeper than I would have pictured, his aggressive tone unnatural. I am sure however, I could bring about other vicious sounds from him...

"The girl you seek is just beyond this door..." his irises flicker to the glowing exit; hope.

"We plucked Her Majesty from her perch in the clouds, and now she is ours." But even as I speak to the boy, her aura weakens. And yet, I feel little urge to pursue her. This Sky-child exerts a magnetism I have not previously encountered. Few I have encountered have struck my beasts with such force. They covet him. I can only imagine what his own beasts sense…

"But I am being uncivil, aren't I? Perhaps an introduction is in order." I slide across the floor with a feline grace. The boy does not withdraw his eyes from my own. I move until we are only feet apart.

My creatures want to fill their hunger.

I want him to kneel in submission.

In torment.

"I am the Demon Lord of this land called 'the surface.' But I prefer to be called by my full title: Lord Ghirahim, though I am not fussy."

He says nothing in reply.

"It is very rude not to offer your name after I have so willingly done so. But I suppose you don't need an introduction. After all, I know who you are..." I draw closer.

He does little to hide his shock at me invading his space. Such naivety is exceedingly pathetic in its charm. His eyes shift briefly, showing the cracks in the mask he wears. My beasts growl with ravenous gluttony.

This boy...

"The 'Hero of the Goddess'..." I stand with my arms wide open. "Such a title for one as young as yourself."

He regards me cautiously. I ponder the shade of his blood beneath his flesh.

"By all circumstances, the girl should have fallen into our hands already..."

The human's eyes narrow sharply, his body taut like a rope. He contains his beast well, whatever it may be. I want him loose. But getting him to submit is part of the enjoyment.

I want to break his inner bonds.

"She was nearly ours when that loathsome servant of the goddess snatched her away..."

Her Majesty's presence continues to lessen.

"Do you have any idea how it made me feel?" my voice lowered to a dangerous level; the calm before the storm.

I watch the boy swallow hard, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Uncertainty reflects in his eyes. But his will remains intact.

The beast of will?

Before Sky-child could blink, my form vanished from his sight. I do not wish to starve my beasts for much longer.

Jerking his head from right to left, he searches for me. Beware, my sky-child. Fear is toxic.

I appear behind his youthful body, placing my talented hands upon his shoulders. I can feel him stiffen like a stone at my touch. Leaning into the crook of his neck, I express my intentions as hushed as ocean waves.

"But it hardly seems fair to take out my anger on you..." his mortal aroma fills my lungs. Its effect is like an exotic stimulant. It sends shock-waves through my extremities. My fingers are tingling.

His pale flesh is dotted with moisture, the salty fragrance fusing with that of his chaotic tendrils. I breathe in deeply. His perfume fills my mind with visions of towering trees, their woody odor imbued with the wild wind. I feel the softness of his hair caress my cheek. What a perfect specimen to exact my dark intentions upon.

"And yet..." I muse, pondering at the fragrance of his blood. His flesh prickles. He will be mine before long.

"Tell me, Sky-child." My hands slide seductively down his arms like silk. The muscles beneath his green garb are firm; a resilient cocoon for the creatures he withholds. His height is as I expected.

"Do you feel a connection to me, as I do you?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." He mutters coarsely. I do enjoy the sound of insecurity. I trace circles over his arms, longing to pierce the veins beneath his flesh.

"My inner beasts have awakened in response to you..." I speak as I envision his battered, broken form. "They beg for release..."

He darts from me with the agility of a rabbit, his long cap whirling about his face. His face. His composure is tossed aside, revealing a truer expression beneath. I have clearly found a sore spot.

"Stop!" He gasps angrily, his voice driving me insane. I deliberately lick my lips, my eyes locked with his.

His fierce eyes widen, a warm shade of red tinting his cheeks.

"Mmm...You must be new indulging yourself in darker pursuits..." I chuckle, standing to my full height. He turns away in embarrassment. His stance on the other hand remains defensive. Simply delightful. I draw closer to the discovery of his beast's identity.

"Stay back!" he responds rapidly, removing his sword and his modest shield from his back. His lower lip trembles ever so slightly. My creatures are practically bursting from their confines. "I won't let you go any further."

"Do you draw your sword, boy?" I laugh boisterously. He calculates me as best as he can. His cheeks become rosier.

He lunges at me with all the strength he can muster. He wishes to determine my own abilities. Predictable. But risking retaliation without any knowledge is a great mistake. But it certainly requires courage.

Courage...

I catch the blade of his weapon gracefully between my fingers. The force of his assault pushes hard against my steady base. I had my doubts, but he has the potential to gain substantial skill, that is if I let him. With the gentle flick of my wrist, the human is disarmed. His sword clangs to the floor some paces away.

"Do you want to push your luck, my little sky-child?" I sigh though my insides growl. He dashes to reclaim his lost weapon, but I do not allow it.

My fingers reach out and encircle his fragile neck. I drag him near to me. His hands grapple at my forearm, attempting to pry it away. His struggling arouses the violence within me. His chest rises and falls in quick spurts. His shield falls to the floor.

"When you fight..." I start, loosening my grip so he can take in air. I allow my fingers to feel the pulse in his neck beneath his now bruised flesh. The movement is sensually slow; drawn out. I feel his pounding heart, his beating blood. Blood-lust moans inside. "It will only drive me further into madness." I trace his Adam's apple with my thumb, aware of his neck's fragility in my hand.

The lack of oxygen has left him worn. The boy does his best to keep eye contact. Fervor does not depart from them.

I lean into his face, pressing it to the side. I do not wish to snap his neck so soon; to hear the sharp crack of bone. But he complicates my violations with his refusal. After all, we have only begun to play. I whisper into his pointed ear, fueling my own inferno.

"I want to know your beast...I want to awaken it inside you."

"I won't give you that pleasure." He speaks with renewed vigor and stubbornness.

Courage...

He uses such a perfect word; pleasure.

Leaving his throat, I seize a fist-full of his golden locks, roughly pulling his head backwards. Pain reads as clearly as a book on his expression. No sound follows, however. How disappointing.

"My my, aren't you stubborn..." I purr into his ear. "You require discipline."

I summon my darkened blade in my hand. With a grip as tight as my hold on his throat, I grasp his wrist, forcing his palm to face upwards. With precision and excellent execution, I cut open the skin of his hand. The flesh peels wide, ripping apart like the skin of a ripened fruit. He visceral scream is no less than erotic. Scarlet blood floods from the wound. The shade is the most beautiful in all the material world.

I cannot resist.

I crush his cut to my avaricious lips, drinking in his scarlet liquid with haste. His life-force throbs in my mouth, the thumping din deafening. His blood is indescribable.

The floodgates were open. All of my beasts bursts through the barriers.

Removing my mouth from his blood soaked hand, my mouth moves to his wrist. The feeling is electric. The throbbing of his blood still echoes in my mind, reverberating with the efficacy of thunder. With my sharp canines, I bite down upon his wrist. The vein spills forth like wine into my mouth, trickling over my tongue. He resists me, fighting as hard as he can. I expect nothing less. I exert a firmer grip on his wrist, the bones straining against the pressure. He gasps deliciously in agony. I persist.

He pushes his free hand against my chest, grunting like a wild creature. I release his arm, opting instead to dig my nails into his neck, my blade still in hand. A groan escapes him, the sound ringing in my ears like a bell.

Air rushes between us. He manages to part us.

I find myself reeling backwards, requiring a few seconds to steady my feet. My decision to let go of his wrist was a poor one; one I will not repeat. I wipe away the saliva and blood that drips from the corner of my lips. I chuckle. It progresses to laughter. I throw my head backwards in deranged jubilation.

He stands to my side, his sword that was once cast aside now in his hands, his shield there also. His mouth is gaping, his neck smeared with his own life-force. His blade drips not with my crimson liquid, but his own. A steady stream makes its way to the tip of the blade. It flows like a river.

"What a waste..." I comment sorrowfully, allowing my red cloak to vanish from my shoulders, the smooth fabric slipping into a swirling design of diamonds. "You really shouldn't let that wound remain open for long."

"It will have to wait." He responds, scanning my body. "But first I will deal with you."

I sense vengeance in his irises, though he holds it back like a dam.

He slashes again, being sure not to make his same mistake twice. His beast (though I suspect there are others) are raging within him. I block his attacks like a wall with my dark weapon, his blade unable to pierce my weakest points. However, his swings become faster and faster. His expression is draped in concentration as he bites his lower lip. He is truly guided by an invisible force.

The heated metal of his blade is thrust into my side. It singes my insides with a mighty strength of fire; of holy light. I cannot help but curse the boy. But I do not wish our battle to end.

He removes his weapon from me like I am but a sheath.

My beasts howl with wrath.

I trace the wound, bringing my dripping fingers to my view. My blood is richer than the boy's, though its shade does not hold the same sway in my eyes. I wrap my tongue around my tactile members. I smile with beguiling charm.

"Your skills are uncanny, sky-child. Such a surprising improvement from when you first attacked me."

"I will not hesitate if you refuse to stand down." He speaks with the voice of a warrior.

"Stand down?" I question with feigned confusion. My sights narrow. I know the beast that lives within this boy.

With barely half my strength, I charge the human of my obsession. He is quick enough to block my initial blow with his homemade shield, the wood battered with the triumphs of battle. However, the boy is not prepared for my relentless force.

The sound of his back slamming against the nearest wall reverberates within the circular space, our figures consumed by the dark of the room's outer reaches. His shield crumbles like dried bread, the jagged pieces tumbling to our feet. My blade slides over his clothed torso, a vibrant gash stretching across the green like a canyon. His hand has already begun to dry.

"Why would I ever consider backing down?" I whisper, "When I am so curious about what other _piercing_ skills you have..."

He coughs harshly. I know he hears my suggestive words.

I press my free hand into his newest wound, watching his pained and stimulated expression with a nefarious stare. His blonde tendrils hide his shut eyelids, but the curve of his open mouth tells me volumes. I scratch his wound, the 'hero' biting back a scream through gritted teeth. A fresh cut has split open his lower lip.

"Now now..." I scold, a fresh, warm flow engulfing my hand. "It doesn't have to be like this you know..."

His blue eyes flash open like lightning.

I pull back from his searing injury, though it is too soon. I purse me lips, once again grasping his free hand. I drag his hand over the fresh wound he so graciously gave me in my side, coating his palm in crimson. He so diligently sought to cause me suffering and pain that his inner beasts deserve to feed on his success. No doubt the heated liquid scorches pleasantly well beyond the surface of this servant of the Goddess.

"St-stop!" he chokes. His words command me to cease. However, they are unable to disguise the change in his tone. It is like covering a foul stench with a light fragrance. A new beast is born. Deviance spreads from my chest. And as domination presses on, I will drag this new beast into the world – out of the shadow, and into the light.

"So you aren't so pure after all, my little Sky-child..." I tease. I taunt him like I would a helpless animal.

"No!" He calls out. What audacity.

"You are letting your beast of courage keep you from what you want." I state with full knowledge. "Yes, your beast is courage..."

Releasing him once more, my hand slams his skull into the wall with a resounding crack. The boy cries out helplessly, his vision undoubtedly spinning. I want him to know what I taste – the unsullied ambrosia that only wrath and bloodlust brings.

"Why keep your beast of rage contained?" I murmur. "Submit to it...courage brings you nothing."

"I can't – I won't..." he protests. The sword in his hand however, doesn't move.

I hiss. I am growing to detest his courage. I want to hear him scream.

Laying my hand flat against his chest, I tear at the fabric and flesh that protects his heart. With the force of a lion's claws, I scrape his flesh. His muscle corrugated over his ribs, rolling beneath my fingertips. His craving is palpable, residing just beneath the surface. His screams are loosed from his lips, gushing from his mouth like the blood of his wounds. Not even heavenly voices of the otiose goddesses themselves could compare to the celestial despondency personified in this boy.

My thoughts, my beasts are overcome. Images of this blonde human assail my mind, his young body writhing as I shatter his bones beneath my feet, sever his limbs from his body with my malicious blade. His cries and screams are too numerous to count, their melodious sound infused with torment and struggle that are no longer held back. His exposed form is decorated with deep perforations that will never heal over; scrapes and scratches that will scar this perfect specimen until the end of his mortal time. His gold hair is plastered to his bruised cheeks, his scent of trees drowned in the deluge of crimson liquid. I take him – his life. I will know him better in these final moments of his existence better than all who have walked beside him in his lifetime. He is the servant, I the master.

Shattering.

My thoughts are broken. Visions of the present barrage my sight as if I were blind until this very moment. I see the boy create an elegant dance with his swordplay. Horizontal, vertical, diagonal slashes thrash my form. My arms, legs, and torso are bedecked with vivid stripes; a deadly work of art. I am unable to focus my attention. Unable to calm my beasts. The chaos of which I love is affecting myself instead of my victim.

Courage roars through every fiber of the sky-child, his beast overtaken with not rage, but goodness. His once agonized expression is gone. It is noble. He no longer appears as the child who entered this temple, but the man of destiny.

I stumble back, though I do not fall to the floor. He ceases his assault. Is he showing mercy? Such a weak trait. The corners of my mouth turn upwards.

"Well...you put up more of a fight than I would have thought possible..." I speak haughtily. "But do not clap for yourself just yet..." I suck on my fingers, relishing in whatever blood remained there.

The human is exhausted, obviously using up the last bit of strength he possessed to force me away. My heart pounds in my chest; its ribbed cage. Courage cools the fury in his eyes, their watery blue submerging his beasts in control.

"I fear I have spent far too long teasing and toying with you...though I cannot deny my enjoyment."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stands taller than he did before. Courage has grown within him.

But so has his new found licentiousness.

"But the girl's presence has all but faded from this place, which leaves me no reason to linger." I toss my smooth hair from my face. Sky-child lowers his weapon, his garments are splattered with red. Blood-lust and domination recede further within my being. They have been fed. However, when they are fed, their next feeding will require more than what has taken place.

"Goodbye, my little sky-child." I bid farewell, expressing my disappointment that our encounter had to end.

He watches me. He feels that undeniable connection between us.

"Run and play for now...if we meet again, I will take all that I want from you..."

"Never." he replies coldly. I scoff.

"Take care of your beast of courage, as well as the others that have been brought to your attention." I swing my sword counter-clockwise, taking one last, possessive look. "I don't want anyone else taking what belongs to me."

As I entered Skyview with authority, as do I depart. The human is left with a sea of diamonds in the empty room.

Until next we meet, 'hero.'

My beasts will be waiting.

**Author's Note:** So yes, Ghirahim is a bit of a freak. But for all of you who have played Skyward Sword, there was really no question of that, was there? I don't think he was all that secretive of his disturbed nature, even if his heart was filled with rainbows and other such imagery. So please review if you liked my interpretation of Ghirahim's perspective (if you feel so inclined, of course) but please do so respectfully. Review others as you would wish to be reviewed! Have a wonderful day!


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